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TLTL and Lou Reed

October 27, 2013

So, I certainly would have heard about Lou Reed’s passing today through Facebook at the very least, but TLTL called me to tell me, all shakey-voiced, apparently just after learning the news. Reed’s music had a special place in our relationship, he said, and that’s true.

I wasn’t expecting to hear from him at all, honestly. I made an attempt to make peace between he and I last night, and got a two word response from him.

He’s lost two friends and a favorite musician in a short time span, so I can get behind his sadness and frustration. He said he’d call after he got back from his tour. We’ll see. I’m not going to hold my breath. Fight for me, you ass. Quit being a baby!

Here’s the thing. I wish I could be more bummed about Lou Reed dying, but I can’t be. When TLTL called sounding upset, saying he was getting texts and thought I would want to know, I thought he was going to tell me something had happened to MTIA. I don’t know how irrational that thought really is, either, since the other night MTIA stumbled into a bar where TLTL was, crying, covered in his own blood, but claims not to remember what he was crying about. Apparently he tripped and cut his hands, and then proceeded to wipe his hands on his face. Description from friends: You were in such a bad way that TLTL was worried about you. That says it all.

MTIA has been busy, so we haven’t spoken really since last night after he got home from a performance he was doing. Everything was fine then, so I’m going to assume it still is. I feel ignored, though.

I shouldn’t, but I do. I have so little faith in myself. And I see, again and again, those flashes of familiarity when I look at TLTL. “Thank you,” he said to me softly while we were driving across town. “For everything. I think you’ll get it when I say it, that I don’t understand why someone would do so much for me, even though I’d do it for someone else and not bat an eye.”

“Yes, I can relate.” I smiled at him. “You really do deserve good things.” I had been staring at the scars from cuts and burns on his upper arms while he slept earlier that morning. He… makes sense to me. I don’t usually make sense to myself (or Anyone Else, for that matter), but I see so much of myself in him, and it makes complete sense.

Somewhere, deep down, I think this must mean I have an awfully high opinion of myself. It’s true. I do. My opinion of myself doesn’t mean shit, though; I care what others feel. Thus far,  I have been slightly better than worthless. I want to be myself. But I have always wanted to love and be loved more than I felt any compulsion to just be myself. With TLTL, I want to be right.  I want us to be open books to one another. I want to find out what is there, really, between us when all pretense is gone. Are we what we appear to be? And what is that, exactly?

I want to know that someone loves me for me, not for who I become to fit into a relationship. I don’t know that I have a real identity at all.  I’m a magpie of cultural and social norms. I just adapt where I can to what I can. Somewhere, buried, I guess, is my own sense of being. I want to just be me. Sadly… “I am for you, Alrik of Valt.”

Goddamn. Maybe he finally read the note in the birthday card I gave him. It was honest, and rambling. Maybe that’s why he got online, read a message from me, and disappeared. Shit. Or maybe he’s just  fucking exhausted, you moron.

Seriously, I need to stop dating artists. I really need to stop dating Scorpios. I need to quit morphing into images of others. The trouble is, I do love the dark side of Scorpios, and I just can’t seem to help myself when I’m around them.

And I think I just agreed to go on a dinner date with a friend from high school school when he’s in town.

Apparently my slut pheromones are still working, even if the rest of my body refuses to cooperate..

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From → fiction, rants

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